


a certain set of skills

by aheadfullofdreams89



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Violence, inner cinema
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 00:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfullofdreams89/pseuds/aheadfullofdreams89
Summary: Turning around to face the kitchen counters you saw things out of place, a mess on those counters, knife blocks and utensils shoved around in chaotic disarray. Some of the kitchenware had fallen to the floor.





	a certain set of skills

**Author's Note:**

> Domestic and short one shot. Mature for implied and non-explicit adult situations with a hint of fluff and a dash of angst.

It was late, later than you would have liked. The clock striking almost 10:30pm when you opened the door to your apartment on that friday night. A few of your colleagues had wanted to go out after work, celebrate the closing of a very tough project. It would have been impolite to decline that, you had been a part of said project after all. So you tagged along and got held up until half an hour ago.

You had wanted to just get home that evening, spend a little quality with your boyfriend you saw all too rarely anyway. Just snuggle up on the couch, cuddle and watch TV for a while. Normal things, nothing fancy. Just being together.  
There was a dim light coming from the living room so you did not feel the need to flick on the ceiling lamps in the hallway when you let your bag drop to the floor, hung up your coat and kicked off your shoes. What a relief to be home at last.

You sighed happily. Maybe you could still wrap your arms around your boyfriend for a little while and cuddle him silly. He hopefully had not gone to bed yet. Or into stasis mode to be correct.  
No. He would never do that. He always waited up for you, no matter where you were or how late it would be. He said, he could not rest knowing you were out somewhere without him. Waiting until you were home safe and sound. Sweetie pie.  
You made your way over to where you thought Connor would lounge but found the room empty. Turning around to face the kitchen counters you saw things out of place, a mess on those counters, knife blocks and utensils shoved around in chaotic disarray. Some of the kitchenware had fallen to the floor. What was that strange smell, pungent and a little like... burnt rubber? You could not even pinpoint what exactly it reminded you of.

You knit your eyebrows together. What happened here? Some wild monkey fight in your kitchen?  
He had never really used the kitchen, not needing to eat and all so why would he start now?  
Walking over to get a closer look at the open kitchen you saw something.  
There was a dark, almost black gooey fluid in puddles on the counter, still dripping down to the tiled floor slowly.  
A rustle from the hallway made your head snap in that direction.

„Connor?“, you called unsurely.  
There was no answer. Then you saw some of that fluid sticking to the door frame. Was that... a hand print? A bloody hand print?  
Your eyes widened in shock. Oh god, no! You grabbed for the nearest knife with shaky hands and called out again.  
„Connor! Baby, are you home?“, voice wavering, distressed to the max.  
Please no. It almost looked like a fucking crime scene in here. At least that was how you imagined one. You were not the expert on that matter.  
Hopefully Connor was alright. It could not have been his blood of course, eith it being a different color. But that did not mean he was not here somewhere, badly hurt… or worse.

Maybe someone had come to your home to have their revenge on him. Connor, as a part of the DPD, had surely made a few enemies over time. Mostly every criminal he caught and convicted had a reason to be pissed at him.  
The knife in your hands would not keep still with you shaking like a leaf. You were not made to be brave. Connor was brave for you too most of the time. Alone your were helpless and scared out of your wits!  
Sure, he could hold himself up in a fight up more than anyone you knew, fast and strong as he was. But he was not unbreakable.

Why could you not have declined to go out with half the company tonight? Why did you have to really start socializing again today of all days?  
It just was not fair. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to Connor while you were out having a little fun with your co-workers. Thinking about that he could have probably been through hell while you were sipping on a yummy drink… It made your stomach turn.  
You went out into the hallway, careful to not make any sounds. Oh god, your knees were shaking!  
Light was coming from under the bathroom door and you heard a few hushed noises. Mumbling, cursing? Someone rubbing something?  
Gripping the knife even more tightly you inhaled deeply. You had the element of surprise on your side.  
„SHIT!“ Connors voice wafted through the door, clearly disgruntled.  
Oh, so he was in there. Alive. Hopefully well.  
Just go in, you told yourself. Connor had taught you the most basic self-defense. You would be fine!

Laying your hand on the door knob you yanked it open.  
You wanted to yell, scare the hell of whoever was in there doing god knows what to Connor.  
Instead you saw Connor. Just Connor. Standing at the sink full of red tinted water.  
He whipped his head around.  
„Hey babe…“, he went from looking like ‚fuck-you-caught-me‘ to crestfallen, putting on his puppy eyes. His voice was mere a mumble.  
„Connor! Thank god!“  
You crossed the short distance, putting your arms around his waist, hugging him tight, your head on his chest.  
„I thought you… the kitchen… with the blood“, a quiver in your voice you looked to his face then to his hands at the sink, halfway dipped in red water. He was holding… a scrubber brush? And was that your apron with the cupcake print in his hands?  
"What blood?", he asked confused. Sighing deeply he looked at you through the reflection in the mirror guiltily. Then down at the soaked cloth in the sink.  
„What…?“, you did not comprehend what you were seeing.  
„I’m sorry. I ruined it. I ruined everything…“  
Pulling his hands out of the water, drying them off on the hanging towel, putting an arm around you and hugging you close.  
You looked up at his face, silently asking for an explanation to all this, a tear in your eyes from the fear you unnecessarily felt just moments ago.  
Ruefully and bummed out he began to speak.  
„I wanted to surprise you when you got back. I… You recently said you badly craved blueberry muffins. So, as I had nothing better to do tonight, I looked up a recipe and thought ‚hey, can't be that hard‘.“  
You awww’d at that.  
„How I was wrong. I just made mess. The muffins have melded with the silicon baking mat and are in the trash, the blueberries are on the floor and wall. And most of all... I ruined your favorite apron with their juice.“  
He looked about ready to cry.  
Oh, that poor baby!  
"Connor... That... I...", you burst out laughing despite yourself. He did not find it half that funny, still looking at you with that confused, sad look.  
"I thought you had been hurt. The handprint and all. I've painted out the worst scenario in my head..."  
You explained to him what you feared when you got into the kitchen.  
He turned up one corner of his mouth.  
"I'm sorry for upsetting you. I didn't think of how it might've looked to you."  
"It's okay. Really. My mind was playing the worst tricks on me. Why would someone break in here knowing that the protoype detective is always ready to kick some serious ass."  
"True." He smirked, and continued, loosening some of his anxiousness.

"Tell you what. I'll take you out for breakfast tomorrow. And you'll have real, honest-to-god-delicious blueberry muffins. And I solemnly swear that I will never touch the oven or anything kitchen-related again."  
You grinned. He was such a sweetheart. Wanting to surprise you. Had you not been in love already, you would have fallen for him right this instant.  
"Sounds perfect." Smiling up at him affectionately.  
"Until then", he turned around and scooped you up into his arms effortlessly "I'll have something as a dessert subsitute."  
Waggling his eyebrows suggestively, smirking. Oh that devilish glint in his eyes promised so much more.  
"And you think that this'll make up for the ruined apron? It was my favorite", you feigned being upset.  
"You don't need an apron for what I've got in mind." He squeezed the back of your thighs playfully, "In fact... you don't need any clothes at all."  
You giggled at that.

He carried you over to the bedroom, the messes in kitchen and bathroom forgotten and slammed the door shut.  
Oh well, you just might forgive him.


End file.
